Sunday, August 30, 2009

All We Have Is The Post Man On The Porch

Mail the dog. Male dog. Men are dogs? Mailmen are scared of dogs. My grandfather was a mailman.
He had a cat.
I can't find anyone I can trust.
I am in the shadow of one year. A year of devotion, emotion, mislead notions.
My friend says I am going to a very dark place, following, like Persephone, a lovely and sad Persephone. We followed him because he was holding a pomegranate and left a trail of seeds.

I won't believe again.
No one.
I don't believe you, and I don a hoodie and wear sunglasses,
and they only recognize me by my shoes when I walk past,
then disappear.

A long wait in the waiting room, like a prison made out of the living room full of toys.
The cold is coming.
A cold cell,
cells frozen,
a cold spell,
after the dog days of summer.
The cement held the heat like the bathtub held milk.
Cat shampoo all the way to Cat Power.

The twin tells me to go to church, I thought about making an appointment to confess.
The twin told me to get a cat, and I just went catatonic and deflected the light
coming up from the shadows. I did my time.
Hit it and quit it, as a singular mademoiselle. Sleeping on top of the sheets enjoying the heat,
because if I go to hell, it will be just like Florida anyway, where watermelon means love, and the sheets are stained with blood.
Even he says this shit is too much.
It's too much to keep lying,
yeah,
like you did to me? I say.
Then he says Yes.
We never slept. It was an exhaustive haunt through the mountains and the tunnels.
It only gets paid,
'you know, the debt,
when the flowers bloom up by themselves.
The sun comes once a year and melts the hurt until you freeze up again and remember it to the bones.
Remembering a secret, remember being ignored,
remember crying out for help when no one came,
and everyone who cared was more tired than you were-- of hearing about it.
It's the same old story.
Always.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Here's Some Doilies, Byei.

Four feet to forfeit. An axis of eval and a salt bath.
I sleep all day and bathe in milk and degrees.
I called because I was in the neighborhood Wednesday,
I wonder if you saw me, I wish I brought the shoes. Next time I will,
and I will leave them at the mall.
Adding letters to the end of my name,
BS MS PHD
Supplements to support my weight loss goals,
Matts and Mats to do yoga on.
In a quiet mood,
After the farm and after the city.
After sitting in lawn chairs on the water in Brooklyn with
one of my favorite men.
Best girl, best guy
Wearing down the grass with bare toes and building a town
a tiny Holland,
with real tunnels like we talked about when we
were children before anyone was married
and playing grown up.
There was a tunnel from your room to my room.

Hurt all the time.
Hurt because my Dad came over and brought me doilies,
lace doilies,
and I started crying when he left,
and asked my mom why he buys me this stuff.
And she looked at the doilies and said,
It's just
It's just
how he shows you that he loves you.
And I cried my eyes out because I didn't want the stupid gifts,
I wanted to go for a walk,
and have him NOT LEAVE.

"Here's some doilies, Byei."

Friday, August 28, 2009

Rubber Band Plans, Hands to the Mirror

Directions:

Reflect
hand up,
palm up,
hand to the mirror,
satellite directing,
give it to me,
give it to you,
stop,
shine,
glow.

It is free.
An instant replay and I feel psychic
So disappointed to be so predicting
of the predictable
mood swing
Using
A person to work out your woes
Using you to work out a person

Out of the system
The vacuum system
Blowing things around
And the flowers are still fresh
Loving more than ever,
The system blew out the dust.

Haunted by the living.

In the computer era
People are dispensable,
Replaceable,
The new Boy Girl right around the corner
( Hey. Love. )
and at the Star Bucks
and the book store
Try a sample
Fall in love

Not choosing love.
Actively single.

Lover in the shower
Left the computer on
While you sit at the desk and open the mail,

Speak revenge.
Speak sugar.

Speak, Honey, why won't you speak?
"you don't want me anymore?"

No. I want the Internet girls and you,
So, shut your mouth when you are talking to me.
Let me pull your hair when you question things.
Let me put you on the wall and leave you hanging.

Honey moon period.
Begin again.
I reflect and see the past in my future,
Watermelon, honey?

You chase me down and break my phone.
I threw a cup of my-made-lemonade on your car
and you went to the all night car wash
because it was not lemonade,
really it was piss.

Reduced to animal behavior.

Compose a letter and sit waiting,
watching documentaries.
You actually like documentaries.
He misread your tone on the phone with a girlfriend
The tone was because she wanted to be alone with you and not
be on the phone so everything came out sideways.
Distorted in the cold of winter.
And that leaves one wondering in a winter wonderland,
Bird in hand,
Thousands in the bush.

It is a choice, being single.

A choice to not be left wondering what could have been.
The world blows open to deny, to say no, to yield to the whispers.
To yield at the merge
And just stop the car and GET OUT.

A silence instead of yelling.
A walk on the pavement alone in the quiet,
remembering a time when a man told you to get back
in the car.
Get back in the car.
And he chased you and took the shoes off your feet
because he gave them to you.

He yelled as he put your shoes in the trunk of his car
and you had to call your friends to come and get you
and they had to use google maps to find the Kmart you saw across the street
and you figured out how to get there barefoot without stepping on any glass.

Call back for more? Busted. Break out. Jail.
The girl sits in prison for two years and works on a craft class and a computer class
and she is happier than ever. She inspires endlessly because she has survived
an attack on her heart,
haven't we all?

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Buyin' Hoes Cappuccinos

Blow for blows
Swim in Gelatos
Hang with Bros
Cup of Joe

Orange is for Peaches and Feet

Needs Kreek Krek and Suntan Lotion
She builds a mystery
She sees everything and remembers everything
And then there are 'borderline' disorders, but she is too passionate to write
little lists.
She burns.

Her brain knows everything by heart.
She dances Stevie Wonder
and wonders about the future and which country her little
house will be in.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Liar Lair

Peach
Watermelon footsteps stuck to the floor
From Samurai activity and clicking orange shoes
changed to foamy orange shoes
almost changed to orange sneakers

Sneaking a peach
with no receipts.

Sunken low slumping creeps.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Not New York Til Thursday

This is an ethermessage.
Vacationing at the pool with no rain
or in the yard in exchange.

Check the back yard

there are red birds there.

Romance of Logs

Toggle
Scroll
Roll around in bed.
Hung necklaces from the mirrors and implemented
'green' light bulbs that last nine years.
In nine years there will be a lot of MERCURY in the landfills
unless we find a way to recycle it.
And what are the side effects?
I have conspiracy theories for everything,
I (don't) fall asleep thinking,
I lay there thinking, my neck is stiff from depression
and what if it is caused by the mercury in the light bulbs.

Environmental allergies.
The truth is that I am not really depressed, it's just that my neck hurts
and thinking about it makes me blue.
And thinking about my neck hurting gives me a stomach ache
and thinking about my stomach ache keeps me up at night.

I drove my car earlier and told my friend I'd like to do manual labor.
I mean, I think that kind of job is better for a person, anyway, I'd rather work outside
than working behind a computer 'thinking' because
I think a lot already and it does me no good.

I watch t.v. and see that people get paid for their ideas.
I think it feeds an illusion,
because real work gets real results.

Too many people 'reckon' their ideas are worth money,
and I suspect this is the cause for the decline of the dollar.

p.s. money is stupid
p.p.s. i have no fear of financial insecurity

I start a romance by logging on.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Prison

Shot Torment out the Window

Stiffly sitting

unsteady rolling

side to side

and quickly shifting

comprehend

sync

let on...

cross-legged stockings

stalking

phenomenal now silence

smile

frown

be still

I am still yours

' take what you've given me

and try to give it to

them

walk and speak in

body movements

won't you read my mind?

(and isn't speaking easier?)

unless you're like

me

and words come out wrong in wrong order

and accents on

curse words

and I feel UN lady like

cross legged

My friend says "some women sit like this,"

two fingers: parallel stuck together

"some women sit like this,"

:crosses fingers, index and middle as if for good luck.

"and SOME women sit like this,": forms a V

he wishes me good luck€

like a preacher he says it

and my eyes widen

it wasn't a comment,

rather a command

feminists

turn to prison bitches when in love

I read my cards and they say yes, all the way across

and i stand on the beam

ballet girl

bun girl

lipstick six year old

plea'

right step

center step

left step

center step

Don't get wild

'Be a good little girl and shut your mouth'

My favorite fighting words

As a lullaby

Give me another language because

mine's used up and wasted.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Word Resume Not a Document

Groovy. A word for getting off the train at home.
I grew up in a groovy city.
Take out the hippie connotation, and put in a Motown overtone.

I am a scientist of words.
I know what words mean.
I know about context.
I know when you use the wrong word.
I can x-ray the implications,
dissect the misuse,
and appreciate when you leave out a syllable or two,
and take it as affection.

What I cannot do:
Interpret Silence
Assume

Woofer Wonder Two For Two

Did you find me or are you still looking?

Chasing the rabbit
And when not,
Chasing the fox to the bushes near the flagpole,
the rabbit is being chased by the fox.

Ether chase
For either place

Wolf.
Woofer.
Wonder.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Sleep Pants ON!!!

Thought for sure I would be grown up by now.
Grown up to know better,
but I am a believer.

I will live near the Mediterranean soon enough.

This was a week of gifting. I went a little too far.

It has been a mixture of fruit juices and vitamins, and three different cell phones in one month.
It has been vacuuming and comforters.
It has been laundry and hurricanes and high efficiency light bulbs...
and oil changes.

It has been a fight when I don't want to fight anymore.
Just want to wake up in the morning and laugh.